Chapter 2 #2
“I’m wondering why we delayed our departure this long. We could have left in spring. It would have been cooler. Was there unrest in the Lombardy region until recently?” I addressed the question to Matt again.
Oscar’s jaw firmed but he didn’t respond.
Matt glanced between us before answering. “There are probably cells of anarchists all over the country, but according to the newspapers, Oscar’s right. The worst of it is in Sicily. Are you anxious about going, Professor? Perhaps you should put it off, or go somewhere else.”
“No, no. I was just…” I shrugged, feeling silly now for thinking Oscar had lied about the level of unrest. Of course he wouldn’t send us into the fray if it was dangerous. “I was just wondering why our departure had been delayed for so long, and then when Willie offered me her gun—”
“She did what?” Matt barked.
India chuckled. “Did you take it?”
“No!” I pushed my glasses up my nose. “It would be akin to cutting off her limb, which was why I was surprised she offered at all.”
“Perhaps she’s getting softer as she matures.”
That made all of us chuckle.
“Where is she?” Matt asked. “Did she decide not to return with you?”
“We caught an omnibus. She wanted to walk.”
“Willie, walk?” He scoffed.
India frowned. “Where did the three of you go?”
“We had some last-minute errands to run,” Oscar said before I could decide whether to lie or not to keep Willie’s tattoo a secret as she requested.
After we finished the tea and cake, the housekeeper returned little Gabriel to his mother and great aunt while Matt, Oscar and I retreated to Matt’s study to finalize funds and travel documents.
Not that I had much input. Oscar was better at the arrangements than me, so I mostly listened while he and Matt discussed the details.
It wasn’t until we were about to leave that Matt spoke directly to me. “Are you sure about this trip, Professor? If you’re worried, you don’t have to go.”
“If I only did things that didn’t worry me, I’d never do anything. Oscar says the unrest has eased, and I trust his judgement.”
“According to the newspapers, the situation has calmed somewhat since the assassination attempt on the prime minister and the passing of anti-anarchist laws a few weeks ago. Most of the unrest was in Rome and the south, although the northern cities were affected with strikes and demonstrations but nothing too dangerous. If that changes, and at any point you feel unsafe, take the first passage home.”
“We will,” I assured him.
When Oscar didn’t immediately respond, Matt prompted him. “I know you want that book with the tattoo flying spell, but it’s not worth risking your lives.”
“I wouldn’t endanger my friend,” Oscar growled.
“Or yourself,” I added, watching him closely.
We returned to the drawing room to see Willie had arrived.
She stood behind the sofa and watched Miss Glass teach Gabriel a hand clapping game as he sat between her and his mother.
Both India and Willie looked on with somewhat sad, wistful gazes at the elderly woman taking on a childlike quality as she played with her great nephew.
Usually rather prim and stiff, it was sweet to see her engaging with the child, but knowing it was a result of her mind failing took some of the shine off the scene.
Matt picked up a letter from the sideboard and handed it to Willie. “It’s from Duke.”
She snatched it and began to read. “It’s about time he wrote.”
Miss Glass sighed. “Time is of the essence. Tell Duke to seize the day.”
“You should write to him and tell him yourself, Letty,” Willie said.
“Why would I write to Duke? He lives upstairs.”
“He moved back to America last year.”
“Oh? Why didn’t he say goodbye?”
“He did. You just forgot.”
“I did, didn’t I? I’m a little forgetful these days.”
India picked up Gabriel and placed him on her lap. She patted the space beside her. “Won’t you sit down and read it here, Willie?
“Yes, Willie,” Oscar chimed in. “You should sit down.”
She lifted her gaze from the letter long enough to glare at him before resuming reading.
Matt crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at Oscar then at his cousin.
Sensing his gaze, Willie folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll read it later.”
“We should be going,” Oscar said. “Walk us to the door, Willie?”
We said final farewells to Matt, India and Miss Glass, and ruffled Gabriel’s thatch of thick dark hair, before leaving. Willie led the way, eager for us to go, perhaps so she could read her letter from her dear friend.
Once we were out of earshot of the others, Oscar turned to her. “Will you consider letting me see the tattoo upon our return? I want to speak the spell into it directly to give it the best chance of working.”
“You’ve got to get the book with the spell first. It might not be at the abbey anymore.”
That was a very real possibility. Ever positive, Oscar merely shrugged off the concern. “So, will you tell us what you got tattooed on your arse?”
“No.”
“Is it the American flag?”
“No.”
“A love symbol?”
She screwed up her face as she opened the front door. “Goodbye, Barratt. Try not to get shot by anarchists while you’re gone.”
I gasped.
“Or if just one of you gets shot,” she went on, “make sure it’s you and not the professor. I like him better.” She ushered us outside and shut the door in our faces.
Oscar laughed. “Do you think that’s her way of flirting?”
“With me or you?”
“Both?”
We walked side by side along Park Street.
The sky had cleared and the sun shone brightly overhead.
It didn’t take long before I felt uncomfortably hot, but I resisted the urge to dab at my forehead with a handkerchief.
I needed to get used to the heat. It would be warmer in Italy.
I was contemplating whether I should pack neckerchiefs to protect my shirt collar from sweat, when Oscar stopped at the intersection.
“I’m going this way,” he said, pointing to our left. “I’ve got some errands to run.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” We’d already planned for him to take a cab to my place then collect me and my luggage before heading to the station.
Oscar didn’t nod. He didn’t give any indication he’d heard me. “Gavin, are you sure you still want to go?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Matt’s right. It’s not too late to back out. I can go alone.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“You seemed unsure earlier.”
I squared up to him and waited until his gaze met mine before responding.
“It’s true that I’m unsure about this trip.
I’m concerned about anarchists, the heat, the lengthy travel, and the language barrier, among other things.
I am also unsure about how many ties to pack, and whether I should eat a small meal or large one tonight.
It’s natural for me to worry. In the past, those worries stopped me from doing things.
But you heard Miss Glass. She said to seize the day. So I am.”
Most people would suggest I shouldn’t take advice from an elderly woman losing her mind, but not Oscar. He simply clapped me on the shoulder and said, “Good for you. We’re going to have a molto grande Italian adventure together.”